


Fortune's Fool

by littlelimeyzombie (kickintheshin)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Dubious Consent, Gore, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Mpreg, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Omega Verse, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2687762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickintheshin/pseuds/littlelimeyzombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham is humanity's downfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parousia

**Author's Note:**

> Season one AU, taking place sometime after Coquilles.

Will Graham had awoken staring at the lazy blue sky, an early morning breeze lightly brushing past him. His entire body felt twisted, a dull ache in every limb, head forced backwards.

He attempted to move, or more accurately roll from the spot he had been forced into, but the Omega simply couldn't, entire body protesting to the attempt with a shot of blistering agony that he had never before experienced. Every point where his skin had been impaled was pure agony. He couldn't move an inch, felt the sharp of antlers as a numb hand reached down his nude form to feel what was keeping him in place. He had been mounted, scars marking his form

He was too weak to work himself free, the male forced to hang there, watch droves of birds flock past him as he was displayed in utter indignity.

So Will Graham found himself waiting for death.  Albeit, agonisingly slow death. He wasn't quite sure why he was still breathing, though, and he managed to muse such a thing, when the pain seemed to die down to such an extent that thought came easier.

When the sky faded from blue to a deep grey, Will was still there, and he was still alive. It wasn't as though he could properly tell how long he had been there, mounted by the callous copycat killer. Will’s murder and display was probably the most insulting thing their killer could’ve ever done to Jack, only his plan had seemed to have gone wrong somewhere along the line, because Will Graham was still quite alive, and this felt quite, quite real.

And just when he started to think this might've been some perverse afterlife for one of his rather meaningless sins, he felt the antlers he’d been impaled on leave his body. Some carefully, smoothly, others snapping and staying put. Will cried out, but there was no air to leave his lungs. So when he was freed from his antlered restraint, guided into strong arms and wrapped carefully in a coat that smelt of fine cologne and the finest hint of spice, Will could only appreciatively whimper.

“Will?” The voice asked, distant and muffled, but distinctly that of Hannibal Lecter. Will wasn’t as comforted by the familiarity as he had wanted to be.

 “H-Ha…” Will tried to voice, but he simply slurred around the word.

“You’ve been sleepwalking, Will. Can you tell me where we are?” Hannibal asked, and though Will opened his mouth to respond, he simply couldn't wrap his lips around such words. Hannibal, delicately, carried Will away from the stag head that Will caught blurred sight of as the two walked away, bloody, missing a few antlers that Will didn’t realize were still stuck in his upper chest and thighs. 

_"You will make a fine meal."_


	2. Tribulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff never did no harm.

Will awoke in his own bed.

His little house was dimly lit, a familiar weight perched on the bed. In the faint light, he reached for Winston, stroking his exposed stomach drowsily, his free hand groping his chest for antlers that he knew wouldn’t be there, met with smooth skin. He felt like one tended to feel after a very long bout of illness, and it was almost refreshing.                                                                                                 

He set eyes upon a lightly dozing figure next to him. Will’s eyes adjusted as he watched Hannibal, who was grasping a cup of whiskey, snap to at Will’s stirring.

“Good morning. Or should I say good evening?” The doctor greeted with a smile, setting the mug to one side. Will was impressed with how quickly he seemed to come to.

"Probably the latter.” Will admitted. He looked to the clock. “How long was I out for?”

“I found you around ten this morning. It’s now… Twenty seven minutes past midnight.” Will swallowed, visibly perturbed by Hannibal’s words.  “How are you feeling? Hungry? I made dinner.” The Alpha inquired.

“I… Could eat.” Will responded, propping himself up with his pillows. He ached, feet especially, and he wondered how long he’d been walking for, breaking the hand away from Winston and making to stand. Every bone in his body ached with protest at the attempt.

“Sit back down.” Hannibal requested lightly. Will could only blindly follow his orders. His body thanked him for it.

"What happened? I wouldn’t say I don’t remember a thing, but I don’t think my version of events is exactly trustworthy.” Will asked.

"You were sleepwalking. I found you wandering around in a field." Hannibal said, standing to go heat up Will's dinner. 

"I'm very glad I found you before anything bad happened." The Alpha disappeared into the kitchen, Will fussing against the bedsheets, tempted to follow Hannibal. He decided against it, though he moved forward ever so slightly, wrapping himself back in his blanket. Hannibal had neglected to put his heater on, and his strays seemed to be struggling. He took a moment to feel down his chest, the points that he vaguely recalled being impaled at in his dream.

“Whatever happened felt… Extremely real.” Will managed to utter, swallowing thickly and moving straight back to lavishing a suddenly hyper Winston with attention.

“I believe your delusions are getting more vivid. What did you see?” Hannibal asked from the kitchen, reheating Will’s portion of food in a pan.

“Not much. The sky. It was more what I felt.” Will admitted, pulling the blanket over his face, a childish compulsion. “I felt like… Cassie Boyle. I’d been mounted.”

“You empathized with her?” Hannibal inquired, frowning over at Will.

“I don’t… Tend to empathize with the dead. Not in the same way that I empathize with the people that put them there. But I was Cassie Boyle. I’d been left in the same state as Cassie Boyle, only… I was alive. I was there for hours, and…” He eyes began to prickle with tears he wasn’t willing to let fall in front of company. The Omega cleared his throat, one of his dogs hopping beside himself and Winston. Will didn’t mind.

“Garrett Jacobs Hobbes empathized with his victims, didn’t he?” Hannibal asked.  
  
“Garrett Jacob Hobbes didn’t kill Cassie Boyle.” Will responded, gaze intently fixated upon Winston. He didn’t want to look at the flashing in the corner of his eye.

“Of course he didn’t.” Hannibal responded simply, gaze drifting to the back of Will’s head. “But you are still able to empathize with the person who did end her life.” Will smiled faintly, at that.

“Of course I am.” He replied simply. He fell silent for a moment. “You have no blind obligation to me. Or Jack Crawford, for that matter.” He was convinced that Jack had put Hannibal up to this, forced him to become his protector despite Hannibal’s assurances of their friendship.

“Jack isn’t forcing any obligation from me, Will. I care about your welfare, and I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Hannibal paused, for a moment, hesitating over the stove.  “I realize that this may be an intrusive request, but could I stay for a few days?” He inquired.

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Will responded. “I do fine on my own.”

“I have no doubt you do. Your delusion concerned me and I would like to be able to keep a watchful eye on you, at least until I’m sure you’re not in any immediate danger. I may have to take shifts with Dr. Bloom, though, assuming you’re alright with me informing her of the situation.”  
  
“Believe me, Dr. Lecter, Alana Bloom is the only person I’d ever allow you to divulge my sleepwalking habits to.” Will cracked a smile, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose.

“And you’re perfectly right to do so.” Hannibal smiled, carrying a plate and a glass of water set upon a tray to Will, sitting on the chair he’d set next to him and offering the meal over. 

“I didn’t have access to my regular cooking utensils, so forgive the overall quality. You don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on certain commodities until they’re taken from you.” Will drank some of the tap water, cold and soothing to his irritated throat.

“It smells wonderful.” Will responded, setting the glass on his tray and picking up his fork. “What… Is it, if you don’t mind my asking? 

“Not at all. It’s stuffed venison heart. Rather simple meal. I apologize, I ate while you were asleep.”

“Oh, I like simple, simple is good.” Will ate a piece, oblivious to the absolutely awed eyes boring into his skull. “This is good.” He voiced, setting his fork aside after a few more mouthfuls.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I used what you had for seasonings. Luckily, I had the brine already.” Hannibal responded, feigning modesty.

“You’re always prepared, aren’t you, Dr.?” Will found himself almost teasing, the male subtly pinking at the ears. Hannibal suppressed a laugh.

“That I am.” Hannibal responded. “Now, eat. You need your energy after the day you’ve had.”

 

_"Sh..." He hushed gently._

_"Go back to sleep." He urged._


End file.
